


White Collar Drabbles and Ficlets

by Lady Angel (dameange)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dameange/pseuds/Lady%20Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various drabbles and ficlets for White Collar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Collar Drabbles and Ficlets

Title: Four Rules

 

_1\. It's okay to have preferences._

He felt guilty at first, timing each of his kisses with them, making sure that each kiss was exactly the same. Same length of time, same intensity of passion.

But one day, Peter grabbed him, pulled him down, laid him out on the sofa and started to kiss him. Slow kisses, hard kisses, teasing ones and sweet ones. Neal could only wind himself around his lover, hands buried in Peter's hair, lay there and enjoy and beg for more.

Elizabeth walked in, smiled at them, and then sat back to watch. She never made a move towards them, and she never lost her smile. After that, he always kissed her with the love and lust he felt for her, but he poured everything he was into his kisses with Peter.

_2\. It's not all about sex._

He found them curled up in bed with each other. They were naked, so he stripped off his clothes and thought about how he was going to wow them tonight. He thought about asking Peter to handcuff him to the bed. He thought about going down on Elizabeth until she screamed before moving onto Peter.

But before he could do any of those things, Peter tugged him into the middle of their curl, wrapped his arms around him. Elizabeth cuddled into his arms and asked him how his new painting was going. He forgot all about his plans to wax poetic about it. It wasn't until later, after they talked about Elizabeth's new client and new employee, after they speculated on why Cruz had transferred, and murmured about weekend plans, that Neal realized they never moved towards sex.

Sure, kisses had been exchanged, hands had caressed, and their naked bodies had rubbed and touched and moved even closer to each other, sensual and loving. He realized then, why Kate had never felt real for him. Why their time together had been a fairytale and not true romance. Because it wasn't always about sex, it was about closeness.

_3\. Share is a verb._

He stared at the wrench, then he stared at the once dripping faucet that now spewed water all over Elizabeth's kitchen. Satchmo was barking his fool head off as he chased water spouts.

He could perfectly recreate Michelangelo's David, but a leaky faucet had defeated him.

"Oh my God."

He spun. "El, I'm sorry! I was just trying to help!"

Her eyes were huge, her hand over her mouth.

He wondered if this was the straw, but then he saw the corners of her eyes crinkle and blew out a relieved breath.

"Let me go change, honey," she laughed, "And I'll show you how its done."

His brow furrowed. "Uhm, shouldn't we wait for Peter?"

She laughed. "Neal, honey, Peter is more capable of blowing up my kitchen than fixing that faucet."

Neal grinned, feeling so much better.

_4\. Communication is key._

"What do you need, Neal?"

He wanted to curse the man, wanted to spew vulgar demands at his lover, but couldn't find the breath, let alone find the damn words. Hours, hours he had been here, tied to the bed, silk ties, stronger than metal handcuffs, held him spread across the bed. Hips propped up on pillows, cock thrusting into nothing but air, except when Peter or Elizabeth decided they wanted a taste. Seconds and minutes and hours of hands and mouths driving higher and higher, lust leaking out of his very pores, desperate need the monkey on his back.

"We can't give you what you need unless you tell us, Neal." Damn her for her teasing voice. Damn her for those clever fingers, entwined with their lover's, buried deep in his ass. Those fingers pressed and caressed, but never hard enough, never long enough to end his torment.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Peter whispered into his ear, "just a couple of words and this'll all be over."

Neal opened his mouth, breath whooshing out as Elizabeth's hot mouth closed over his hard cock, Peter's talent tongue and teeth nipping at his nipples, their fingers still inside, still wreaking havoc.

Desperation gave him voice. "Fuck me, please!"

Peter took him, Elizabeth rode him, and Neal exploded into oblivion.

The End

* * *

  


* * *

Title: Things You Learn at a Girls Night In

 

"Hey!"

Dana nearly fell into Elizabeth's arms, hugging her best friend fiercely. "You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to this."

"You? I've been chomping at the bit all week!" Emily declared from behind her, claiming her own hug from their friend.

"Well, we've got the whole house the whole night. Peter is staying with Neal tonight." Elizabeth waved them into the living room, turning to their last friend. "Micki, I'm so glad you could make it." She grinned. "And already dressed too."

Micki grinned mischievously down at her cow print pjs, before grabbing Elizabeth in a quick hug. "You know me, always dressed for the occasion."

Elizabeth laughed and nodded. "Help yourselves to the wine and appetizers. I've got a few more things in the kitchen."

Dana nodded absently, glancing at the large stack of DVDs. "Do you want me to start up the movie?"

"Yes, please," Elizabeth threw over her shoulder as she left them for the kitchen.

Emily flopped on the couch, long red hair fanning about her head. "Why don't we do this more often?"

"Because we're busy, career and family oriented women." Mickie sprawled all over some of the large body pillows that Elizabeth had thoughtfully left for them. The petite Asian woman took up more than her fair share. Dana squinted at her until she gave up two with a snicker.

Dana turned back to the VCR, turning it on, then the tv. "So, what should we start with tonight, ladies? The gorgeous, but slightly crazy Tom Cruise? Or the cute and funny, but every role is the same Hugh Grant?"

When silence meet her question, Dana turned, blinking at the gobsmacked expressions on the other two women's faces. They were staring at the tv. She stepped back, only to fall on her ass.

There was no sound, but the visuals were shocking all on their own.

Her best friend's husband laid naked on their bed, but it wasn't Elizabeth's dark head bobbing between his outspread legs. The hair was too short, the shoulders too broad, the waist and hips too streamlined to be Elizabeth. Peter reached out to bury his hand in the short, dark hair, and the mischievous blue eyes of Neal Caffery smiled up at him. Neal moved with a single tug from Peter's hand, sweeping up the long length of Peter's body to claim his mouth in a scorching kiss.

The two men rolled and wrestled, clearly laughing and loving, ending with Neal on his back. He cradled Peter with his entire body, Dana could see the love in every gesture. She saw it in the way Neal's long legs rubbed and curled around Peter's hips and sides, saw it in the way artist's hands smoothed slowly up Peter's shoulders and reverently touched his hair. Saw it in the way Peter kissed Neal, like he kissed Elizabeth: love and worship and gratitude.

They moved again, Neal on his knees and Peter behind him.

More than just she sucked in a shock breath when Peter kissed and licked his way down Neal's back and into his ass. Neal's beautiful face fell into such lines of pleasure that she had to shift her legs, feeling moisture pool. Neal pressed back into Peter's tongue, spreading his legs for more, reaching between his legs to jerk his cock. Peter knocked his hand away, lips clearly forming the word "mine."

They all watched as Peter slicked up his fingers, watched his fierce, satisfied, smug grin as he worked his lover open. Neal must of said something, because Peter laughed and pulled out his fingers, replacing it with his naked cock. No condom, no protection, just the shiny slickness that eased his way into Neal's ass.

Their expressions were blissful and erotic and made all three women fidget and sigh. Peter took him so slow, every thrust its own beginning and end, hands in constant motion, mapping out the body stretched out for his pleasure. Neal's smile was beatific, eyes closed as he savored being taken.

"Oh."

They all jerked up and around.

Elizabeth stood there with a huge tray of food, but her eyes were on the tv.

Dana scrambled to turn it off, guilt mixing with the haze of pleasure, outrage starting to bubble up. "I can't believe him, El. I can't--" She became incoherent at the roil of feelings surging through her.

"That bastard," Emily hissed, instantly at Elizabeth's side and reaching for the tray. Placing it on the table, she grabbed at their friend, hugging her hard. "I'll get you Eline's number, she's the best divorce attorney in New York."

"No, wait--"

"I can't believe an FBI agent would just leave evidence of his infidelity in his own house, out in the open like that," Mickie added, bracketing Elizabeth with her own hug.

"You can stay with us," Dana declared, ushering the three of them to the couch. "I can't believe . . . in your bed no less!"

"Wait, guys!" Elizabeth's words barely penetrated, it was her laughter that did.

They froze and stared at her.

Elizabeth waved her hands as she laughed a little breathlessly, her cheeks glowing pink. "Uh, I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this." Her eyes darted to the now blank screen. "They made that for me."

They all blinked.

Elizabeth's cheeks became even pinker. "The three of us are in a relationship."

She didn't even hesitate before that last word. She seemed embarrassed, but comfortable too.

"How long?" Mickie recovered first and demanded.

"It's been a little over a year." Elizabeth fiddled with a ring that they had noticed she had taken to wearing in the last month or so. The only rings she wore constantly was her wedding rings, but lately, this other ring -- an ornate swirl of gold -- had adorned the ring finger of her right hand.

"El," Emily's voice was choked as she stared at the ring. "Did you marry him?"

Elizabeth's laughter was a little choked too, but she nodded. "Peter and Neal wear the rings too."

"Oh," was all Dana could add.

"So," Mickie said after a long silence. "Let me get this straight. You, Elizabet Burke, are married to the hot, smart FBI agent Peter Burke. And you both share that drop dead gorgeous, younger-than-the-both-of-you lover," she pointed blindly at the tv.

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded.

Mickie inhaled hard. "Right." She scoot back and began bowing. "We are not worthy, we are not worthy!"

Emily went into one of her giggle fits, playing along.

Elizabeth laughed at both of them.

And Dana? Well, she wondered if John was particularly close to any of his Army buddies.

The End

* * *

  


* * *

Title: Pursuit of Sweetness and Light

 

Neal was 100% sure that Peter was going to kill him.

Chop him up into little, well-dressed pieces and toss him into the bay.

Probably toss his perfectly shaped fedora into the water too.

"Neal."

And the damn cars wouldn't get out of his way! What was with this city and it's horrible drivers? Why, oh why had he listened to Kate? He knew he should have taken that evasive driving class while they were in Russia.

"Neal, baby?"

Did the nearest hospital have to be so damn far away? There were so many more morons to dodge between the house and it. Every idiot with a car was on the road today and driving slower than Ms. Daisy could walk.

"Neal, sweetheart? Calm down. It's okay."

"Peter's going to kill me." No, he wasn't hyperventilating. It was allergy season.

"No, he isn't." She was laughing at him, he could hear it in her voice, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the road to glare at her.

"Yes, he is." This he was absolutely sure of. "You're going into labor and he's not here."

"That's hardly your fault, sweetheart." Her words weren't the only things laughing.

"He'll find some way to blame me, I just know it."

Elizabeth laughed even harder.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Neal could only slump into Peter's arms when they wrapped around him.

"They're beautiful."

He could only nod. Ethan and Madeline were beautiful, healthy pink babies. Brunette and blue eyed like their mother. "You and El made gorgeous babies."

"You, El, and me."

Neal had to bite his lip. Bite back the whimper. Everything, everything was perfect. His lovers, his children, his family. Bit back the sobbing laugh. He even had the perfect dog.

He turned in Peter's arms, kissed him so sweet, wanting El next, but she was resting. Poured everything into that kiss: fear, love, anxiety, happiness.

Everything was perfect.

The End

* * *

  


* * *

Title: Artwork

 

Red Vera Wang dress, slinky silk and tiny straps, curled into an S next to the dresser. Matching fuck-me shoes tilted, discarded nearby. Scraps of lingerie trailing off.

Black Armani tuxedo, sharp lines contrasting with soft carpet, half-hidden under the white linen shirt. Pants snaking under the bed; shiny shoes and silken socks tossed without care.

Vintage Brooks Brothers tuxedo, gray wool, silver satin, valiant effort to stay on the valet, but slithered down slowly, covering pants and shoes discarded below.

The bed a white canvas, cool cotton valleys and hills, revealing as much as they hid. Pillows bitten by teeth, clenched by hands, used as support and comfort. Three bodies entwined, sweat glistening in the moonlight, hair mussed from fingers, lips swollen from kisses.

Breathing deep and sated, bodies boneless, eyes closed, hands cupping intimately, possessively.

The End

* * *

  


* * *

Title: Lessons Learned

 

Jones does not want to tell Peter that Caffery already slipped his pretty much nonexistent leash. His place at June's was cleaned out of all his stuff and the nice lady had no idea where he went. But then again, she was smirking into her teacup, so he was pretty sure she had been lying to him.

Jones gathered up his nerves and raised his hand to knock on Burkes' door. The sound of a crash and a short, feminine scream had his gun out and his foot through the door before he even knew what he was doing. Surging through the house, gun at the ready, he stumbled to a shocked halt. And stared with his mouth open, his gun hanging limply in his hands.

The dish that had crashed to the floor laid unnoticed.

Not with Caffery between Mrs. Burke's legs as she laid on the dining room table. Jones had the fleeting thought that Peter would kill Caffery, except the man himself was plastered to the ex-con's back.

"Jones!" Peter barked.

"I, uh, I, Caffery's missing." Jones tried, really, he tried, but he couldn't help staring at the three of them. They were mostly dressed, but it was obvious that they wouldn't have stayed that way if he hadn't come in.

Peter leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, his voice was dry as hell. "No, really? He's missing?"

Caffery and Mrs. Burke both started laughing.

"I'm gonna go now."

"Yeah, Jones, you do that."

He bolted, only stopping when he reached his car, resolutely promising himself two things: 1. he was never going to say about this to anyone (because he's smart enough to know who butters his bread) and 2. he was going to knock next time.

The End

* * *

  


* * *


End file.
